


Guardian of Light

by SophiaEAnderson



Series: Of Light and Shadows [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Assassins, F/M, Forced Maturity, Kidnapping, Order of Guardians, Temple of Light, abusive childhoods, any other languages are translated using google translate and I'm sorry for any errors, league of shadows, not knowing how normal kids act
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26019961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaEAnderson/pseuds/SophiaEAnderson
Summary: Warnings don't apply to every chapter and the chapter that do will having warnings in the beginning notes.Thousands of years ago the Order of Guardians formed two organizations to help protect the Miraculouses and keep balance in the world, The Temple of Light and  the League of Shadows. When Fu created the sentimonster that destroyed the Temple several people survived that night, working to keep balance in the world and find and train the next Grand Guardian that will one day track Fu down and reclaim the First Miracle Box.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Series: Of Light and Shadows [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888552
Comments: 44
Kudos: 261





	1. A Brief History

Eons ago, two organizations were formed to protect ancient and powerful artifacts called Miraculous. Each organization was tasked with maintaining and controlling certain aspects of the world, to maintain balance throughout the world. A group of people from each organization were chosen to become the first Guardians, creating a Order of Guardians to protect each Miraculous that were separated into several boxes called Miracle Boxes. 

The first Miracle Box was made up of the first nineteen miraculous’ that came into creation, making it the most powerful and important of all the boxes. The Guardian that was charged with protecting this box was called the Grand Guardian and was in charge of deciding what of the two organizations the boxes were kept in and where the new guardians trained. 

One day, the newest of the guardian trainees, one who was being trained to be the next Grand Guardian, was tasked with protecting the First Miracle Box over a 24 hour period. Those that had managed to survive didn’t know what exactly happened that night, just that a corrupt Sentibeing had been created, going on a rampage and destroying everything it came across. The only one who could have been responsible was the Guardian trainee, either because he himself created them Sentibeing or he failed to properly protect the First Miracle Box and someone took the Miraculous from him.

Every other Miracle Box had been destroyed that night but those that had survived were able to perform a spell that informed them that the First Miracle Box survived. The survivors couldn't track the box down but they knew one day balance would be restored and the box would return to them. When that day came, they’d need to have a new Grand Guardian ready to protect the box, someone who they could mold from the beginning so they didn’t fail the way the last one had. 

The Order of the Guardians, the last of the Temple of Light trained harder than ever before, any weakness treated as a disease that needed to be eradicated. Nothing less than perfect was going to be accepted, since anything less would be failure. 

It was almost 200 years since the destruction of the Temple of Light, before they found a potential Grand Guardian that they could mould from the very beginning.


	2. The End of A Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette learns a valuable lesson, don't trust anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Kidnapping takes place. If you don't want to read, there's a summary of the chapter at the end.
> 
> I asked, and people agreed with me, that it would make the story easier to follow if I added at the beginning of each chapter, Marinette's age.
> 
> She is 3 in this chapter

Marinette was young when she was taken. As the years went by she would forget the details of the day she was taken. All she’d remember was a child screaming, a carousel, and the feeling of fear she felt the time she met her Master. 

It made sense that she didn’t remember since she had only been three at the time. It was her Maternelle classmates, Chloe’s birthday, and the spoiled girl had demanded that the class celebrate her birthday in the local park, Place des Vosges. That was fine with Marinette, she liked the park, especially since it was just across the street from her parents bakery that they lived above. 

Chloe, unsurprisingly, was throwing a fit after another classmate had bumped into her, spilling their juice on her brand new shoes. The teacher was trying to calm Chloe down as she flailed on the ground, screaming at the top of her lungs. 

Marinette, one who natural enjoyed quiet situations, found herself drifting away from the scene to somewhere more calm and quiet. She wandered over to the carousel where some of her classmates were playing. None of them seemed to have noticed Chloe's meltdown, having too much fun playing by themselves. It looked like the perfect place to be.

She was almost there when she bumped into an older, frail looking man.

“Sowwy,” she mumbled, still not the best at pronouncing her ‘r’s’ or talking with people she didn’t know, not that she was supposed to be good at the second one. She moved to step past the man to join her classmates but before she could get more than a step away, the man grabbed her arm. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you have an interesting aura?” the man asked her. Not knowing what to say, but knowing she wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers (unless they were her parents' customers and they didn’t ask her questions about herself), she just shook her head. “Quite the creative soul. I bet you’re quite the artist,” the man continued. Marinette started trying to gently pull her arm away, starting to feel creeped out. How did the man know art was her favourite subject or that the teachers had told her she was the best artist in the class. “Yes, quite the creative soul indeed, one that would be a good match for Tikki, but you have a darkness in you. One that would work well with Plagg as well, with the proper training of course. Yes, yes, you’ll make a good guardian.”

Marinette was now trying to pry the man's fingers from her arm, but the man had a stronger grip then what his appearance would suggest. “My Maman said I shouldn’t talk to strangers,” she told the old man. “Pwease let me go.”

“Good advice indeed. I’m sure they’ll be great parents to their next kid,” the man said, making no move to release her arm. “Unfortunately you’re not going to be there to see it. You’re going to be coming with me.”

“Let me go,” Marinette said as panic filled her. Unfortunately the panic stole any power from her voice, making it come out as a desperate whisper. 

The man crouched down so that he was eye level with the three year old. “I told you that I can’t do that Mariette,” the man said, his voice quiet so that only she could hear what he was saying. “And here’s the thing, if you fight me, I may have to go over to your parents bakery and hurt them. Do you want that Marinette?”

Marinette shook her head, for the first time in her short life, feeling genuine fear. She could’t find the words to even ask the man how he knew her name or that her parents had a bakery.

“Good, because I don’t really want to have to do that but I will if you don’t listen to me and I’m suer you don’t want to be the reason your parents get hurt.” The man said before straightening up. “Now I want you to hold my hand as we leave. If anyone asks you, you are my granddaughter. If you try anything funny, or that will draw attention to us, I’ll make sure that you never see your parents again.” 

Marinette hesitated a moment before grabbing the man's hand. Unnoticed by anyone, the two of them left the park. It would be years before Marinette would step foot in Paris again. 

Three hours later, when parents were picking up their children from the park, Sabine made her way over from the bakery only to find her daughter nowhere in sight. The teacher and the other parents that were there at the time helped Sabine look around the park to try and find her daughter but it was quickly discovered that Marinette was no longer there. The police were called, and a search was set up around Place des Vosges and across Paris for the three year old. People were interviewed but no one had noticed anything strange or a little girl wandering off by herself.

Over the next few weeks the investigation continued as the search became national news. Tom and Sabine temporarily closed their bakery, using every waking moment to try and find their missing daughter. They made TV show appearances, talking about their daughter, about what she was like and that if anyone had seen her to please come forward. And if someone had taken her, to just bring her back and they wouldn’t be in any trouble, they just wanted their daughter back. 

But it seemed as if no one had seen their daughter; that she had disappeared into thin air that day in the park. Four weeks, and no leads later, the police had to call an end to the investigation. The case file would stay open but the police had other cases with actual leads they needed to focus on. The second a lead came in the police would start working on the case again, but until then it was put on the back burner. 

Another two weeks passed as Tom and Sabine desperately searched for their daughter before they had to take a step back. They were getting short on money and had to reopen the bakery or end up going into debt. The two of them still search in every free moment they had, running themselves ragged between the search and keeping the bakery running. Six months later their friends sat them down and told them that they needed to step back and let go a bit. Marinette wasn’t just going to appear out of thin air. They told the couple that the two didn’t have to give up any hope that their daughter was out there but it wouldn’t do her or them any good if they wired themselves to an early grace. As much as Tom and Sabine wanted to continue looking, feeling like they were giving up on their daughter otherwise, they could see what their friends meant. They could still hope that one day they’d be reunited with their daughter but for now they needed to move on and heal.

Three years later the police changed the file from open to unsolved, changing Marinette’s status from Missing to Missing and Assumed Dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three year old Marinette was taken from the park where she was playing with her class, by a strange man. No leads are found resulting in her eventually been announced missing and assumed dead.


	3. Waking Up To A New Old Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been years. What's changed? How has she changed?
> 
> Marinette is 12

Niu jerked awake, an image of her Nuri being stabbed with a stone sheard, filtered through her mind. She wasn’t worried about him though, she could feel his life force flowing intertwined with hers, alive and well with his family nearby. She, on the other hand, didn’t know where she was, nor where her body ended up. 

Well...she could at least gather that she was in a hospital, judging by the medical equipment. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, yanking away tubes and wires as she did so. She was unsure of how much time had passed since Damian had been stabbed, the first time that was. Hopefully it wasn’t too long else there’d be consequences for her when she returned to the Temple.

Alarms started blaring as she pulled away a heart monitor. Frowning, she reached over and turned the volume down. She would have shut it off but she was pretty sure some machines had alarms that went off if they weren’t shut down properly. Satisfied that the machines were no longer making noise, she continued de-attaching herself from the different machines and equipment. 

“You’re awake!” A voice exclaimed in French. 

Well shit. So much for not bringing any attention to herself.

Niu looked to see a nurse standing in the doorway. She tried to think of something to say that would keep the nurse quiet but she knew it was hopeless. She was just going to have to sit through whatever examination the nurse and the doctors wanted to put her through and then, when things quieted down, she’d sneak away and head back to the Temple.

“Where am I?” she asked the nurse, in a perfect French accent. “I remember being in a park byn that music festival but I don’t remember anything after that.”

Playing ignorance with the public was always the way to go, at least until you got enough information.

The nurse smiled softly at her. “Well Marinette, you were found in the park and brought here almost 12 months ago,” she said. “You’ve been in a coma ever since. We’re really glad to see you awake.”

Niu frowned. “Marinette?” she repeated. As far as she could remember, and she had a great memory, she never went by the name Marinette so there was no reason for her to be called that.

The nurse had a look on her face that was half panic, half pity. “I’m going to go get some of your doctors to come check you over,” the nurse said, ignoring her question. 

Niu debated leaving now that she was alone again, but she decided against it. She didn’t know how far the nurse had gone to get the doctors and her interest was pipped. Why did the nurse call her Marinette?

* * *

Tom and Sabine walk onto the long term care floor of the hospital for their daily visit to see their comatosed daughter only to find a bunch of people milling about her room. The couple rushed over, fear gripping their hearts, praying that nothing had gone wrong. They weren’t ready to let go of their daughter after having just gotten her back.

Dr. Bisset stopped them before they could rush into the room. “Everything’s fine,” he reassured them. “We’re just running some tests.”

“What happened?” Sabine demanded.

“Honesty, we have no idea. One moment she was just a normal comatose patient and the next she was awake,” Dr. Bisset said.

“Marinette is awake?” Tom asked in disbelief. 

“Hmm? Oh yes. It’s quite strange. There are usually sets to waking up from a coma that we look out for. Waking from a coma is actually a long process but Marinette just seemed to wake up. She showcased none of the usual things we look for,” Dr. Bisset said, unaware of the way he had turned the two bakers' world upside down. 

“She’s awake,” Sabine said, repeating her husband.

Dr. Bisset seemed to realize how much of a shock this was to the parents. “Do you want to see her?” he asked them softly.

Numbly they both nodded, allowing the doctor to lead them into the hospital room. The instantly looked over to the end to see their daughter, their Marinette, sitting in her bed, which had been raised to allow her to sit while still having something to rest against. A doctor was asking her a series of cognitive memory questions, allowing the two bakers to study their daughter.

The first thing they noticed was that she was no longer attached to any equipment. Most of what she had been attached to seemed to have been moved from the room though some things, like the IV and heart monitor were still in the room. Marinette was slim, leaning more towards underweight but she had been in a coma and weight loss was normal. Her eyes, bright blue like Tom, were following the doctor with a sharpness that came from a bright mind. Her hair was still in the french braid that Sabine had put it in earlier that week when she had come when the nurses were giving Marinette a bath, had a few hairs that had escaped, faming their daughters beautifully awake face. 

“Marinette,” Tom couldn’t help but whisper. 

Their daughter looked up at them confused. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice high pitched but soft. She spoke slowly, not in a ‘I barely know French’ way but in a ‘I’ve been well educated’ way. “And why is everyone calling me Marinette?”

Both parents felt their hearts squeeze. Since Roger Raincomprix had told them that their daughter was found last year, they had never thought that she may not go by Marinette anymore. That the people who took her decided to call her something else. 

* * *

Niu looked at the couple who had entered her hospital room. They didn’t look like doctors though for all she knew the two had had a day off and were called in when she had awoken. Whoever they were their presence at least got the doctors to back off, even if they, like everyone else, called her ‘Marinette’ as if it were her name. Starting to get frustrated, but refusing to show it, she asked them why they called her that, wondering if they would give her the answer she was looking for that everyone else had so far refused to.

“It’s your name,” the woman said. Asian, short but strong, could probably fight, clothing and facial structure suggest Chinese.

“No it’s not,” she told the woman. She had never used that name before so she didn’t know why everyone was insisting on calling her it. 

The woman moved farther into the room, sitting on the edge of her hospital bed. The woman looked like she was going to rest a hand on her leg but thought better of it. Smart. “Nine years ago,” she said. “My husband, Tom, and I had a three year old daughter that was taken by an unknown person from a local park.” Niu didn’t like where this was already heading, a weird feeling forming in her stomach. “Almost a year ago you were found alone, unconscious is a park by the Seine while the music festival was going on. When they couldn’t find anyone who knew you, the police ran your DNA.” The woman paused for a moment, not that it mattered, Niu already had an idea where she was going with this. “It matched both my husbands and my DNA in the way only a daughter could. Her name, your name, is Marinette.”

She studied the woman in front of her to try and find any hint of a lie, any hint that this was a test from the Temple but found none. She looked at the man, Tom, who stood supportively behind his wife, and found no lie in his face either. When Niu, no Marinette, spoke she did so with disbelief in her voice. She had never thought this day would come, especially not without her seeking it out. “You’re my parents. My real, honest to god, birth parents.”

Well Kwami, this was the last thing she had expected to happen.

  
  



	4. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette makes some friends in Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awkward, awkward, how do adults talk?
> 
> Marinette is 12

Marinette looked at the girl in front of her. She was pale, caucasian, with blond hair and bright blue eyes. Her hair was straight with a slight wave to the ends of it, with half of it pulled up in a ponytail with the rest staying down along with two strands at the front to frame her face. She wore a canary yellow aline dress with a black bow along the waist seam, with black cuban heeled boots and a black wide brim hat. And most importantly, she was staring at Marinette as if she was looking at an alien.

“Can I help you?” she asked the blond politely.

“Marinette,” her birth name came out of the girls mouth like a whimper, as if saying the name pained her.

“Yes?” she said.

Tears formed in the girl's eyes and she brought one of her hands up to cover her mouth, revealing her french manicure. “I-” the girl had to stop as her voice cracked. She took a few calming breaths before speaking again. “I’m sure you don’t remember me, god we were so young. We used to be in the same class back before you were taken. If I hadn’t been such a brat back then, maybe you never would have gone missing.”

That clicked something in her mind as she flashed back to one of the few memories she had before becoming Niu. “You’re the girl in the park.” She whispered. “The one throwing a tantrum.”

That didn’t seem like the best thing to say as the girl full on started to cry, not the kind of crying that came with sobs and screams but the kind where tears leaked from your eyes uncontrollably. After a moment of silence the girl laughed. “I'm sorry, I’m such a mess. I’m Chloe by the way, not sure if you remember that much.”

“I would say I’m Marinette, but I think you already know that,” Marinette said, not sure how to continue. Was she supposed to get angry at the girl since she obviously blamed herself or was she supposed to say it was nothing and the past is in the past. When in doubt, go with nice. “Hey, it’s fine, okay. I really don’t remember much about that day. We were three, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault I was taken. And it’s not like you were the one who took me.”

“I know I’m being ridiculous just so you know,” The girl, Chloe said. “It’s just, I was such a brat and I threw the fit and that’s why none of the teachers were watching when you were grabbed. It was a bit of a wake up call for me, that not everything revolved around me and I spent all this time thinking I got you killed, that you were dead in a forest somewhere but then I heard you’d been found and I couldn’t believe it.”

Marinette studied the girl before coming up with an idea. She took a step back and turned her back to the girl. She could feel the girls confusion as her crying slowed down. Once she was sure the girl was calm she turned back around. “Hello,” she said with a wide smile. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. When I was three I was forced to live with some people who weren’t the nicest; I don’t want to talk about it so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ask any questions. I’ve been living with my parents again for the last two months after being in a year long coma. I’m going to be going into Sixieme at College Francoise Dupont. And you are?”

The girl hesitated for a moment before wiping her tears away. “I am Chloe Bourgeois. I used to be a spoiled brat, having two rich parents can do that to a kid but when a kid in my class disappeared I got realized that other people mattered and tried my hardest to do better. I still have my moments in which I’m a bitch and materialistic but that’s not all I am. My mom is Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois and my dad is the current Mayor of Paris Andre Bourgeois. I’m also about to enter Sixieme at College Francoise Dupont, and I’d like to be the first to offer to show you around Paris again since you’ve been gone for so long.”

Marinette smiled. “Why not.”

Afterall, if she was going to be in Paris for a while, who better to have as a friend then a socialite and daughter of the mayor?

* * *

Marinette followed Chloe up to her bedroom, having an off feeling about the blond. So far she’d been nothing but nice to Marinette, showing her all the ‘hip’ hang outs and catching her up on all the students that would be in their year, all useful information, but the girl had something planned and it was putting Marinette on edge. She doubted it was anything to cause her harm, the blond had yet to give off any signals to suggest such, but her training refused to allow her to let her guard down. You never knew who was just pretending to be your friend after all and who knew, maybe Chloe had been trained by someone similar to how Marinette had been with the Order.

Chloe showed her around the room when suddenly three people walked into the room, one was a blond boy, another was a stern looking woman with black hair that had some bits dyed red, and the last was a large, buff man who stood looming over the boy with a protective air about him. She’d seen enough bodyguards and personal guards in her life to know what one looked like. The question was why did the boy need one.

“Ms. Bourgeois, I thought Mr. Agreste made it quite clear that Adrien was to spend today hanging out with you, per your request, and no one else.” The stern woman said when she caught sight of Marinette. She seemed like a personal assistant or other hired worker of whoever this ‘Mr. Agreste was’.

“I can leave if you want,” Marinette said, not wanting to step on any toes quite yet. She needed a better understanding of Paris, and who would be useful and not useful to play nice with, and pissing off someone who obviously had money and potentially influence, would go against that. 

“That’s ridiculous. You’re my friend Marinette and so is Adrien. If I want to hang out with both of you then I should be able to. Tell Mr. Agreste to shove his over protectiveness . Marinette isn’t going to hurt Adrien and my floor is one of the safest places in Paris.” Chloe snapped. “Adrien is going to grow up and become an adult eventually. Mr. Agreste should be careful not to push and push until Adrien resents him.”

“Chloe,” the blond boy, Adrien, said He looked more and more uncomfortable the longer she spoke.

“Chloe, it’s fine. Mr. Agreste obviously has certain rules in place and I would hate to break them.” Marinette said, her voice firm. She turned to the assistant. “I’m sorry for any trouble I may have caused. While it would be nice to make more friends here in Paris, I can understand a parent not wanting their child to hang out with someone they do not know. I am however friends with Chloe,” something she wouldn’t have personally called them, especially not so soon, but Marinette was willing to go along with it, “and as such, there could be more situations in which she tries to hang out with both of us. As such I’d be willing to meet with Mr. Agreste so he could decide for himself whether I am someone he wants around his son, and I am sure my parents would agree with a meeting as well.”

The assistant looked at her, trying to see if she meant what she said, before nodding. “If you wish to give me your number I can talk with Mr. Agreste and see what he has to say. I will call if he is willing to have a meeting with you and your parents. Until then, I ask that you stay away from Adrien and leave if Chloe tries getting the three of you to hang out together.”

“Of course,” Marinette said. 

* * *

A week later Marinette found herself with her parents, that was still a weird word to her, sitting in an office waiting for Mr. Agreste to arrive. Her parents seem impressed by the Agreste Mansion though Marinette found it to be an arbitrary display of wealth. The rooms were too large, the white and black theme of everything in the house was old and overused. The giant portrait of Agreste’s wife was an obvious rip off of the Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I, commonly known as The Women (or Lady) in Gold, which was just weird. At least be original with your art instead of ripping off a piece of stolen Jewish art. 

From her research Gabriel Agreste was a famous fashion designer of the brand  _ Gabriel _ in which his son, Adrien, was the main model and face for. Mr. Agreste had been a fashion designer since high school, designing and making clothing for his schools theater program. He eventually studied at the Royal College of Art in London where he graduated top of the class and worked for Alexander McQueen in London. He met his wife a few months before graduation, probably one of the reasons he stayed in London instead of moving back to Paris. He stayed with McQueen for a year before leaving to head back to Paris to start his own fashion company, with his now wife, then girlfriend, Emilie following. Around a year or two later he caught the attention of Chloe’s mother, Audrey Bourgeois, aka The Style Queen, skyrocketing him to fame. Within another year he was the Paris designer to watch, married and expecting a child. When his son was five, someone attacked him and his mother to try and ramson them for Gabriel's wealth. Since then the man has been quite the recluse.

Emilie Graham de Vanily grew up with money and wealth in London. Unlike her sister Amelie, it appeared from school reports and interviews that her upbringing didn’t go to her head, keeping a kind and compassionate heart even while surrounded by greed and vanity. She found a love of acting while in College. It was during a dress rehearsal for a small time play she was in that she met the designer behind the costumes, Gabriel Agreste and quickly fell in love. She supported his passion for fashion, encouraging him to start his own fashion house, resulting with her moving to his hometown of Paris. Once his career picked up, following the praise of Audrey Bourgeois, Emilie found herself agreeing to marry the man who had stolen her heart, the two starting a family not long after. During this time Emilie continued to act, mostly in smaller productions, happy to be the supporting partner in her relationship. Not long after giving birth to her son, she starred in the movie  _ Solitude _ which became the film she was most well known for. When she and her son were attacked, she agreed with her husband to take a step out of the limelight, and while she was seen more than her husband, she still got the title of recluse added to her. 

Marinette sat up straighter as she heard approaching footsteps. She gave her parents a pointed look causing the two to stop their conversation as they became aware of the approaching footsteps. They all stood as Gabriel and Emilie Agreste entered the room, Nathalie Sancoeur, who was Gabriel's personal assistant, followed a few steps behind them, staying by the exit, an ipad in her hand. 

Her parents politely shook the other two parents hands, introducing themselves and Marinette before any of them sat again. Marinette took note of the fact that Emilie stayed standing behind her husband's chair, suggesting a submissive nature and that she was fine with following Gabriels lead. Her parents on the other hand, generally stood side by side unless one was better equipped to handle a topic, suggesting an equality between them. That did not suggest that there was anything wrong with having a more submissive and dominant relationship, it could offer just as much balance as an equal one giving the right conditions and a respect for all parties involved.

“I understand you wish to interact with my son.” Gabriel Agreste said, skipping over the niceties. 

“Yes sir.” Marinette spoke before her parents could try and speak for her. “I befriended Chloe Bourgeois not that long ago and she is insisting that she spends time both with me and Adrien. I will be honest, I don’t mind the idea of making more friends,” it would help her fit in more, “but I understand that you have rules and I’ll understand if you don’t want me hanging out with Adrien after this meeting is over. I’ll even make sure Chloe doesn’t try to set anything up like she had tried to do last week.”

Mr. Agreste studied her, as if trying to see if she was lying. As if he’d be able to tell even if she had been. “I am glad you understand Ms. Dupain-Cheng. I take Adrien’s safety very seriously and do not wish to have any bad influences getting him in dangerous situations.” 

Marinette smiled up at the man softly. “I understand. The world is a dangerous place. I have to say, I don’t know what I could say that would make you trust me.”

“I’m surprised to hear you admit that the world is a dangerous place.” Mr. Agreste told her. “Most children your age, my son included, seem to think themselves invincible.”

Marinette allowed her smile to become more rueful, “I’m can assure you Mr. Agreste, I am not ‘most child’.”

“What our Marinette means to say,” Tom Dupain spoke up. “She has had a bit of a rough childhood, and knows better than most that the world can be dangerous.”

“I assume you're alluding to the fact that she had been kidnapped as a young child.” Mr. Agreste said boldly. Someone wasn’t worried about upsetting people's feelings. He smiled at her parents' surprise. “I do background checks on every person my son comes into contact with. Marinette’s missing person file is the top result upon looking up her name. I assume congratulations are in order, since, while there are no news articles speaking of her miraculous return, that return still seems to be recent.”

“I was found collapsed in a park over a year ago,” Marinette explained to him. “I was rushed to a hospital where I was checked over and the doctors realized I had fallen into a coma. When I eventually awoke it was to discover that I was in my hometown, which I had no true memory of, and was reunited with my parents. I am still settling in, but it’s one of the reasons I wouldn’t mind more friends. I’ve never really had the chance to make some before.”

“That still doesn’t explain where you’ve been all this time.” Mr. Agreste pointed out. 

Her mom spoke up for her when she refused to answer. “Marinette refuses to speak of her time away. The therapist that the police directed up to said it is likely the trauma she faced that makes her refuse to say anything and that we shouldn’t push her. I ask that you don’t either.”

Mr. Agreste looked at her curiously. “Don’t you wish to put the people who took you behind bars.”

Marinette kept with her act of saying nothing, refusing to react to what Mr. Agreste said to her. Not that she had one, no police force in the world would be able to take the Temple or the Order down, especially not with the League of Shadows hadding their own protection. 

“As we said, Marinette does not speak of what happened to her.” Sabine repeated. “The police believe, after hearing everything the therapist got from reading Marinette’s body language and listening to what she would speak of, that the people who took her are the type of people who kidnap young children to raise as their own only to get rid of them once they start to get too old. That they likely abandoned her where they found her and left her to survive on her own. That she wouldn’t actually know any real facts or details that could help the police find them since they likely lived under fake names in a different part of France if not in a different country.”

“Do you agree with what your therapist and the police believe?” Mr. Agreste asked her.

She just continued to look at him. While having a friend and making a larger friend group in general would help her fit in more, she wasn’t about to tell them what actually happened or confirm any speculation when it could get any one of them killed and bring her unwanted attention.

Mr. Agreste just gave a little nod of his head. “That will be all. My assistant, Nathalie, will escort you out. You’ll be informed of our decision soon.”

The dismissal was clear. The trio left the house behind, her parents insuring her that Mr. Agreste was a [asshole] (not their words) and that she would make other friends in time. To not let that get her down.

Marinette just sighed internally, a part of her wishing she could go back to being Min, being Tianshi, encased in darkness with Nuri as her only company. At least then everything around her made sense.    


* * *

Three days later, Marinette was once again in Chloe’s room when Adrien bust through the door, his bodyguard behind him.

“Chloe,” Marinette chided. 

“I didn’t invite him,” Chloe insisted. 

Adrien smiled widely at her as he handed her a note.

She opened it to see a note, typed not handwritten, stating:

_ Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I have come to a decision.  _

_ You shall be allowed to hand out with Adrien _

_ from this point forward. _

_ Gabriel Agreste _

Marinette looked back up to see a hand in front of her. Adrien was smiling widely at her, his hand stuck out for her to shake. She slowly reached her hand out and placed it in his.

“Hi!” he said excitedly. “My name is Adrien Agreste. I can’t wait for us to become friends.”


	5. First Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at some of Marinette's first days

Marinette was used to her colourful bedroom so when she awoke in a room that was completely white she was confused. There was no blue ceiling with fluffy white clouds and glow in the dark star stickers, no lush green mountains or fields with fun little animals running around, no giant stuffed animals or anything of the other things that were in her room. 

Confused, she was about to call out for her Maman and Papa when she remembered the birthday party in the park and the strange man that had taken her away. Tears started to form in her eyes as the fear came back.

“None of that now.” A voice said. Marinette turned her head to see the man who had taken her standing in the rooms’ doorway. “Crying is for the weak and the weak are unacceptable here.”

“I want to go home,” Marinette said. A part of her wanted to suck on her thumb but that was something babies did and she was three. Not to mention she had a feeling that if crying wasn’t allowed, then neither was thumb sucking.

“Whining is unbecoming of a young lady such as yourself,” The man said. “As for going home, there is no need; this is your home now, Niu.”

“Niu?” Marinette repeated, having never heard the word before. The man had pronounced it ‘nee oo’.

“Your name,” the man said.

“My name is Marinette,” she told him, confused. He had called her it in the park after all.

“That was the name of a weakling, of someone insignificant and worthless,” The man’s voice was cold and mean sounding. “Niu is your name now. You  _ will _ respond to it. You will not  _ ever  _ respond to Marinette ever again. If you do not follow either of these rules, you will  _ not  _ like what happens. Failure is not acceptable here. Marinette is dead as of today. In her place stands Niu, someone who will be worth something, who will make a difference in the world. From this day on, you will be training with me and the other Guardians so that you can reach that goal. When you are done with your training and have shown us that you are worthy of the title of Grand Guardian you will be able to earn your own name.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Guardian Zhu. I will be your teacher from this point forward. To fail or to be weak here isn’t just a short coming on your part but it also negatively affects me. As such, I expect nothing but perfection from you. If you do not perform to perfection then you will have to face the consequences, and trust me when I say, you will not like them. Now get up. It is time to eat and then I will be showing you what chores I will be expecting you to do every day upon waking.”

Marinette’s chest felt like lead. She swallowed before swinging her legs over the bed and standing up. She walked over to Guardian Zhu, her head looking down at the ground as her heart pounded; her entire body trembling as she walked. 

Guardian Zhu whipped around, his hand reaching out and slapping her straight across the face. Marinette fell to the ground, one hand reaching up to touch her face in shock. “You will answer me with a ‘yes Master’ when I speak to you.” Guardian Zhu said sternly.

Marinette looked up at him, her heart pounding. “Yes Master,” she whispered.

Marinette walked calmly down to the bakery, her parents already down there and working for the day. She would have normally been down there, learning their trade the same way she had every other day, but today marked the first day of school for her. Her parents informed her that she had been in school and with her class the day she was taken but as far as she could remember she had only been taught by a parade of different tutors from across the world. The largest group of peers she had learned with had been four, and that had only been on the one occasion, with most of her other classes either being just her, her and Nuri, or her, Nuri and his cousin, though it was rare that Mara was allowed to learn with them. The rest of the Fist weren’t allowed to ever train with her or Nuri since they were seen as so below them. Never had she been in a class full of strangers.

“Morning Marinette,” Her father greeted from where he was kneading some dough. 

“Morning Tom,” she greeted. She and her parents had agreed that it was a bit too soon for her to call them anything but their names. She was waiting for some sort of ‘special’ occasion to call them by any paternal nicknames, though she was unsure if she would ever truly view them as her mom or dad. She wished she could talk to Nuri about this. He would know what it was like to suddenly find himself living with a biological parent that was more stranger than parent.

“Are you ready for your first day of school?” Sabine asked her, having just finished ringing up a customer. The only one that had been in the bakery. The calm before the breakfast rush.

“I have all the suggestion supplies and a few of my own,” Marinette told her. She wasn’t sure what she expected from classes, she didn’t need them after all since she was guaranteed to be farther ahead in her own studies, but they were going to make her seem like a normal kid. She just had to remember to get a question wrong every once in a while and not to see eager to answer questions. 

“I meant mentally, sweetie,” Her mother said.

Marinette shrugged, something that would have gotten her smacked at the very least if she’d done it at the Temple or League, but was something she’d seen Chloe do regularly enough that she assumed it was something common among Paris school children. “I see no reason not to be ready. It’s school. I listen to teachers talk about subjects, I socialize, I eat, I go back to class, I come back here.”

Sabine just smiled at her like she was missing something. Why would she be nervous about school of all things? It’s not like she was scaling a cliff wall during an earthquake without any equipment. “If you get overwhelmed or anything like that you can come home right away and we’ll let the school know you weren’t feeling well or something,” Sabine offered.

Marinette smiled at her and thanked her for the offer even though she was sure she wouldn’t need it. It was the polite thing to do after all.

“Here’s your lunch,” Tom said, handing her a stack of tupperware. She placed it in her bag and looked up to see her father handing her a box with the bakeries logo on it. “A little treat to share with your classmates on the first day of the year.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said smiling up at her father. He just offered her the perfect chance to get to know her classmates and decide which ones would be the most useful to be on friendly terms with.

Marinette was about two steps out the bakery doors when a limo pulled up long the crub. The window rolled down to reveal Chloe. 

“Get in,” she said.

“The school is literally across the street,” Marinette protested. “Why don’t you get out and walk?”

“Because I’m wearing heels,” Chloe said. Marinette couldn’t really argue against that. Even the Temple didn’t make her wear heels unless absolutely necessary. 

Marinette climbed into the limo, realizing there was someone else in the limo. “Hi I’m Marinette,” she said, putting her hand out for the other girl, a red head, to shake.

The girl gripped her hand, firm and professional. “I’m Sabrina Raincomprix. Sorry we haven’t met yet but I’ve been with my mom in Scotland. Divorced parents and all that. But Chloe told me how she made a new friend. I can’t wait to get to know you.”

Marinette smiled at the girl. “Same.” she said politely. 

She looked the girl over noting that she looked a bit uncomfortable in her skin, though Marinette couldn’t tell if that was because she was self-conscious or she wasn’t comfortable in the clothing she was wearing. She’d bet that Chloe had picked this girls outfit out for her the same way she had for Marinette. Not that Marinette minded; it gave her a better idea of youth fashion in Paris. 

Sabrina was wearing a pair of purple flared dress pants with a blue button up and dark grey blazer. Her shoes were mainly white with black toe covers, laces and soles. She had a white headband in her hair and a pair of red toned brown glasses sitting on her nose. 

Chloe, on the other hand, wore an outfit of black and yellow. Actually, Marinette couldn’t think of a time in which the heiress wasn’t wearing black and yellow. At least it made buying gifts on her birthday easier if Marinette went the clothing route. She wore a black pleated skirt with balck tight and black belt. She wore a ¾ sleeve yellow shirt topped with a shiny black tie. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and with a pair of black sunglasses sitting on top of her head. Her heels were black with gold little bobbles that suggested buttons, and red underbottoms hinting to their designer origins. 

Marinette had decided to wear the outfit Chloe had sent her. One, she was still trying not to rock the boat, and two, Chloe would know better than her what would be popular to wear on the first day of school. Marinette could study all she wanted but there were only things you could learn first hand. She wore a dress which had two different colours, separating the top and the bottom to give the appearance of her wearing a skirt and top. The skirt of the dress was royal blue in a half circle style. A black belt, it was really just a strip of fabric sewn into the dress, sat just below her waist, creating a drop waist silhouette. The top of the dress was also black with ¾ sleeves and a large curved neckline. Chloe had sent her a pair of black kitty heels but she had decided to wear flats and her hair was pulled up into what would be a ballerina bun if Marinette’s hair wasn’t several feet long, the layers in her hair creating a messier, more teenage, version to the perfect bun of professional ballerinas. 

The limo pulled up to the curb in front of the school. The three of them got out and Chloe’s driver pulled away. Sabrina and Chloe started to head into the building but Marinette grabbed Chloe’s arm before she could get too far away.

“Why does this place feel familiar?” she asked the blond, the only person outside of her parents who knew of her kidnapping and knew her before it had happened.

Chloe looked at her paling a bit as she came to a realization. “Our old school, where we attended  Maternelle, used to be here. They bulldozed it the year after you were taken,” CHloe whispered to her. “They built this school here last year when they decided to decrease class sizes in Paris and needed another school.”

“Oh,” Marinette said. After a moment she shrugged. “Hey, what better way to start a new chapter of your life then to close an old one.”

There was an energy in the air when Marinette awoke that had not been there before. Something was going to happen today, she just knew it.

Marinette glanced over at the clock seeing that there were only a few minutes left until her alarm would go off and decided to get up anyways, knowing she could just say she was excited to start the school year if her parents made a comment. She didn’t know what they had against her waking up so early, they were bakers after all, but she tried to seem like she was sleeping in during the school year. She’d already been up at the wee hours of the morning to go for a run, both on the ground and across the rooftops. She wasn’t about to let herself get out of shape.

Marinette got dressed for her first day of class, slipping on the outfit that Chloe had picked out for her, once again gifting her and Sabrina with new clothing for the first day of school. Unlike the year before, Marinette’s style no longer shifted towards dark clothing, instead taking on a brighter and more colourful and inviting colour scheme, finding that it helped her fit in more and make her seem kinder and more inviting instead of cold and aloof. Not to mention she no longer had a tactical advantage with wearing darker colours that she needed to concern herself with.

This year Chloe had gotten her a pastel pink chiffon floor length skirt, something Marinette would never have picked for herself, but found herself liking it. It was also easy to hide her throwing daggers beneath the flowing skirt. She wore a whtie tank top that she did some white on white embroidery on since the outfit had arrived a couple of days before school started and she wanted to experiment with something new. She wore a light grey fisherman rib knitted sweater over it, which had actually been a hand knitted gift from Sabrina for her birthday. Judging by the texture of the yarn it was cashmere, and had likely been bought by Chloe. She had slept with curlers in her hair, leaving her hair in a nice wave before she pulled it back into one of her favourite styles, a messy bun. It hid the true length of her hair well and kept it out of her face while she worked, the messy nature making her seem more like a busy youth. 

After a quick breakfast Marinette heads off to school, a box of Macarons from her dad for her to share with her classmates. She had convinced Chloe that they could just meet at school this year instead of having the blond pick her up in a limo, which meant she had to follow things like crosswalk lights, the one leading from her parents bakery to the school having just turned red when Marinette arrived. Sighing, she moved into a more relaxed position to wait only to see an old man half was across the street and a car speeding towards him.

Not about to let an old man be squished, it would put a bad spin on her day and she didn’t feel like dealing with the police, Marinette rushed forward and grabbed the man by the arm. A slight spark went through her and she glanced down spotting a bracelet on a leather string with a turtle in the middle. The spark that had come from the man could have been static shock but Marinette had trained long and hard enough to know what it felt to make contact with someone else who had trained to be a Guardian. This was the man who had all but destroyed the Order of Guardians, running off with the First Miracle Box and apparently wielding the Turtle Miraculous. 

Marinette dropped her pastry box, making it appear as if she had stumbled a bit as the two of them made it safely back onto the sidewalk, reaching into her pocket to grab a tiny tracker that would look to the untrained eye to be a small pebble and slipped it into the man's pocket. She couldn’t let on that she had sense anything different about him but she wasn’t about to let him get away. 

Marinette picked her dessert box off the ground hoping she hadn’t destroyed too many of the delicate macarons with that little trick before offering the man one out of politeness before crossing the street with a quick ‘stay safe’. If she found out where the man worked, most Guardians were to be self employed, she could ‘stumble’ upon it and try to gain the man's trust, at least until she found where the First Miracle Box was and could claim it, though it would be better if she could manipulate the old man into giving it to her since it would create a stronger bond right off the bat. She would stop at nothing to get the box however, even if it meant taking years to create a strong enough bond with the box and the Kwami’s inside. After all, the only reason the Guardians had not tried to contact her or bring her back to the Temple was because of their belief that unseen powers brought things to be and that one of those unseen powers was one of the reasons Marinette reunited with her parents and thus there must be a reason that she had to stay in Paris. Reclaiming the First Miracle Box and becoming Grand Guardian was her destiny and now she knew for a fact that it was in Paris, within miles of her, and she’d rather die than let it slip through her fingers then fail her destiny. 

Heading over to the school, Marinette pushed thoughts of the First Miracle Box from her mind, instead focusing on being just Marinette, the daughter of two bakers. She smiled as she climbed the school steps instantly spotting Chloe standing just inside the entrance.

“I thought I’d have to make my way to our classroom before I found you,” she told the heiress. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you obvious,” Chloe said, lying to her. Marinette decided not to push it at the moment, mainly because the bell for them to head to class sounded, and she had all over lunch to interrogate her friend. 

The world was apparently against her finding out what Chloe was lying to her for because after their first class during their study period, a massive crash sounded around the school. The surveillance showed one of her classmates, Ivan, transformed into a stone being. Marinette could have waved off the sudden attack as one of a pissed off Meta the way a lot of her schoolmates were doing, but with the meeting between her and the shameful Grand Guardian trainee had her thinking it was all too much of a coincidence for it not to all be Miraculous related.

Marinette made her way home and up to her room to formulate a plan on how she could be involved without bringing unwanted attention to herself but the second she stepped into her room she sensed something off. A quick glance around the room showed that someone had been up there and had left a black box on her desk. Someone who wasn’t her parents since they’d be too busy with the bakery to step out. 

Slowly approaching the box, Marinette started going over all the possibilities of what the box could be when she saw a familiar symbol, one she had seen all her life.

The symbol of the Order of Guardians

A miraculous box was sitting on her desk. 

Stepping forward she picked up the box and opened it, closing her eyes so as not to be blinded by the bright light that it omitted as the Kwami inside formed its physical body. 

She opened her eyes and had to blink, not quite believing what she was seeing. 

“Hello Marinette, you are the only one who can stop Stoneheart and save Ivan and the rest of Paris,” The Kwami, the  _ Scarab  _ Kwami, said looking up at her with wide eyes.

She was chosen to be the next Scarab wielder.

Well shit, she hadn’t been this put off by a surprise revelation since she’d woken from the coma to find her birth parents waiting for her. Who knew that this was how the day was going to go.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys want me to put the age of Marinette at the beginning of each time jump to help you keep track of where in her life she is and what's happened and what hasn't?
> 
> Also I've loved all your comments. They make me so happy when I open my email and see that you guys have enjoyed my story.
> 
> Marinette's age changes throughout this chapter. She's 3 in the first section, 12 in the middle and 13 in the last.


	6. Sorry, I'm...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Reference to underage relationship.
> 
> Marinette's is thirteen in this chapter.

A funny thought just occurred to Marinette as she, currently dressed as Ladybug, and Chat Noir sat on a rooftop going over a map of Paris, looking at where crimes were most committed and the best paths to take during patrol. It wasn’t a haha funny thought but more of a ‘please don’t let me be right’ funny thought. 

Chat Noir had just made a joke and had looked at her like he was awaiting her approval, her praise but it seemed like the kind you wanted from a romantic interest and not from someone who was a friend. She hadn’t originally thought anything of the flirty back and forth the two of them had, just writing it off as a way that Chat Noir spoke to his friends, the way Alya did sometimes or those people trying to pretend to be teenagers in those shows Chloe had made her watch. She had gone along with it and hadn’t discouraged it because it was harmless and was obviously a coping mechanism for her partner, not to mention something that would lift the spirits of the people of Paris since, if their heroes weren’t scared, why should they be.

She had to put a stop to this. 

“So it makes sense to go along the Seine here since-” Chat Noir was saying.

“Have I been leading you on?” She asked him.

Chat Noir sputtered, looking at her in surprise.

“I have been.” that response was all she needed, to know the answer to her question. “I’m sorry Chat Noir but I don’t feel that way about you.”

“But-I-” Chat Noir said, looking at her with wide eyes. She allowed him to take a moment to calm down. “I know you don’t feel that way about me. At least not yet but come one Milady, we’re Chat Noir and Ladybug, Yin and Yang, we’re soulmates.”

Ladybug stared at her partner for a moment. “Who told you that? Wait no, don’t answer that.” she sighed. “Chat Noir, we are not destined to be together. I have a creative soul, you have a destructive soul. All that that means is that we balance each other out. Our souls are compatible, yes but that is in a partnership or a friendship sort of way.”

“But Plagg said that there’ve been past ladybug and black cat wielders that have gotten married and started families because they realized they were soulmates.” he insisted.

“There have also been past  _ scarab  _ and black cat wielders who have betrayed the other or even personally murdered them. Being given the responsibility of a Miraculous does not suddenly mean we are destined for each other. Ask your Plagg how many of his wielders have ended up with someone else or who were closely related to the then scarab wielder.” she said. “I understand you have feelings for me but I can not and will not return them, not now, not ever.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice pitched upwards into a whine. If she had not been taken would she have growed up to do things like whine and actually mean it? 

“I am married, that’s why.” she finally told him. It was not as if he would be able to connect her to her Nuri and it would help create a distance between herself and who he thought she was since he’d assume she was older then she actually was. 

There was silence as Chat Noir stared at her. “Married?” he whispered after a moment. 

“Yes married, to a husband who I care for very much and who I would never even think of betraying with infidelity, even if it were to happen that we were the same age..” she told him, though for all she knew, they were the same age. She was still tracking him, trying to do so in a way that made sure no reporters or Hawkmoth found out who he was as well. “So I am sorry, Chaton, but I’m already taken. I won’t ever feel the same way about you as you do about me.”

Chat Noir was starring off into the distance but after a moment he slowly nodded his head. “I’m going to be honest, that kind of hurts but I don’t expect you to fall in love with me if you already in love with someone else, especially if you love them enough to marry them.” he said. She let him sit in silence a bit longer since he was still obviously digesting all that she had said. After another moment he turned to her with a wide smile. “So what’s he like? Tall or short? Is he the kind of guy who’d buy chocolate or flowers or both? What’s the most romantic date he’s taken you on? I need to know that Milady is being well taken care of, after all.”

Ladybug looked at her partner, slightly put off by the mood change before she burst out laughing. He was like an eager little puppy with all his questions. Maybe this partnership wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Marinette is married. I will say that, while she cares for her husband (let's face it, you all know it's Damian), she and him are not in a romantic relationship at the moment.


	7. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look at how Marinette views her classmates upon first meeting them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette is 12 in the first part, and 13 in the next two parts.

Marinette walked into the classroom to see a bunch of students already there, chatting as if they’d known each other for years, and who knew, maybe they did. They did transfer from school all within Paris so some of them statistically had to know each other. 

Marinette approached the redhead at the front of the room, a Ms. Bustier, her new homeroom teacher. A young teacher, this only being her third year teaching. She did decent in school as she never failed a class but she was definitely no valedictorian. Her student reports read of a self-conscious student who tried to please everyone and never had a thought of her own. Not someone Marinette would put in a leadership position, but people grow up and can change.

“Good Morning,” she greeted the teacher with a wide, friendly smile. “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m new here this year.”

“Good Morning Marinette,” Ms. Bustier said. Marinette didn’t like the familiar tone she used when speaking to her but let it pass, reminding herself she wasn’t stepping on any toes yet. “I can’t wait for you to settle in and start making friends. I just know you’re going to love it here.”

Oh god. Was it too late for her to ask her parents to homeschool her?

“I’m actually already friends with Chloe and I just met Sabrina this morning and she seems great,” Marinette said instead. “But I can’t wait to make more friends. My dad actually gave me some homemade treats to hand out, is it okay if I do that now?”

“Oh that’s wonderful Marinette,” the teacher said, her voice starting to grate on Marinette’s nerves. Her cheerfulness came off as either fake or as a by-product of a certain level of arrogance and wistfulness that was really starting to annoy her. “And of course you can hand your little treats to us. I think that’s a great way for you to start making some more friends.”

“Merci,” Marinette handed her teacher one of the eclairs before turning to face the rest of the class. 

Some of the students were in pairs or duos talking so Marinette decided to start with anyone who was by themselves since she wouldn’t be interrupting any conversations quite yet and be put on someone’s bad side. By the time she was done, she would hopefully have caught her classmates' attention with the treats and they’ll be willing to speak with her. 

She first approached a boy who was fiddling around on a laptop, typing out code by the looks of it. His skin was dark suggesting African heritage, his eyes were brown behind wide rectangular glasses, and his dark hair, a deep brown, was natural but short, forming an afro that was close to his head. His blue shirt with brown dress pants held up by suspenders suggest a fashion sense that leaned more towards comfort then actually fashion sense but the neatness of his hair and how uniform the cut was suggested that either he had just had it cut for the first day and school and didn’t care or he was meticulous with his hair suggesting he somewhat seemed to care about his looks. She’d have to study him longer to come to a true conclusion.

“Hi, I’m Marinette,” she greeted. She opened the box and held it out to him. “I just started school here. Would you like a pastry?”

The boy looked up at her, pushing his glasses farther up his nose. “Max Kante.” he said, before taking a pastry and going back to what he was doing on his laptop. Not one for social interaction then, or he had a lack of understanding of how they worked.

She turned to the next person by themselves, a redhead boy who was sketching in what appeared to be a professional quality sketchbook. Art was important to him then. He was pale, likely caucsian, with blue eyes that held the barest hint of green in them, and had a nervous energy about him that contradicted with the bright colours he wore which usually suggest someone with more confidence. 

“Hi, I’m Marinette,” she repeated her greeting from before. “I just started school here. Would you like a pastry?”

The boy shyly looked up at her. “I’m Nathaniel, it’s nice to meet you. Thanks for the pastry”

Marinette smiled widely at him. “It’s nice to meet you too Nathaniel. I’ll let my father know you enjoyed your pastry.”

She moved on from there. She met the two girls who were polar opposites. Rose, who had shoulder length platinum blonde hair and pale blue eyes, wore all pink and was loud and cheerful. Juleka was more muted, the tips of her black hair were dyed purple, half of which she had dangling in her face completely covering one of her brown eyes, and wore an all black outfit with purple highlights, spoke to her softly but with a voice leaning towards the deeper end for female voices. The two of them were obviously close.

The last three kids in the classroom were all together. There was Bri which was apparently short for Kimberly, who had chin length dirty blond hair and blue eyes, wearing a plain button up and a pair of jeans. Then there was Andrew, the only guy in the group and another redhead. She had never seen so many in one place in her life. Andrew wore a dark pair of jeans and dark blue dress shirt. The three of them had apparently gone to the same school two years ago before transferring to College Francoise Dupont.

Marinette sat down in the back of the class by the window so she could keep an eye on all her classmates while still having access to an exit point. Ten minutes after the bell rang a boy, asian, with bleached hair formed into a quiff, burst through the classroom door.

“Sorry Ms. B,” he said. “Slept in. First day and all that. Have to get back into a schedule.” Before the teacher could say anything he sniffed the air. “I smell baked goods.” He looked around the room until his eyes landed on her. He bounded up the steps towards her causing her to instinctively rest a hand on the dagger she had hidden under her skirt. “Sweet! Can I have one?”

Marinette smiled up at him. “I brought them for the class. My name’s Marinette, I’m new this year.” she said to him, just as politely as she had the rest of her class.

“Le Chien Kim,” he introduced himself. “But you can call me Kim.”

“Nice to meet you Kim,” she said. She had a feeling that if this interacting was anything to go by, she wasn’t going to be learning a whole bunch in class even if the teacher had the proper education and capacity to teach her. Kim had a vibrant personality, something that would have been beaten out of him in both the Temple and the League, and yet was something the teacher made no comment on, just allowed him to interrupt her teaching the education of the rest of the class. 

Interesting.

* * *

Marinette walked into the classroom, Chloe right beside her. Sabrina had her stuff and Chloe’s stuff set up at the same table of last year and Marinette was pleased to note that there was still a seat in the back for her. She also noted that Max, Juleka, Rose, Kim and Nathaniel were all in her class again which meant she didn’t have to do extensive research into their backgrounds again to make sure they were the normal kids they claimed to be.

“Nino, why don’t you have a seat in the front row this year,” Ms. Bustier was saying as Marinette temporarily left her stuff at Chloe and Sabrina’s desk.

She watched Nino, a Moroccan-French boy who had transferred into her class after winter break last year, moved to the front. She hoped Ms. Bustier didn’t try and move her like she had Nino. She liked having Nino as a desk mate, he was quiet and spent most of his time listening to music instead of talking to her. If Ms. Bustier was moving people around she knew she didn’t want to sit by Kim, who talked constantly when he thought he could get away with it. She’d be fine with Sabrina, Chloe or Nathaniel and would tolerate Max. She doubted Rose or Juleka would be spit up. 

“Good morning Ms. Bustier,” Marinette said as she approached her teacher. “Are you excited for the new year?”

“Good morning Marinette. I am.” Ms. Bustier said, smiling at her.

She opened her macaron box and held it out for the teacher. “Sorry they’re a bit broken. I dropped them while helping an elderly man across the street. Will it be okay if I go around and introduce myself?”

“Of course Marinette,” Ms. Bustier said. Hopefully her teacher would take the macaron as a nice offer (bribe) not to make her change seats. 

Marinette turned to look at the four students in the class that she didn’t personally know. Three she recognized from the previous year, the pink haired one hung out with Kim, the large one kept to himself and the girl with the dreads was someone that she hadn’t noticed with any particular friend group but seemed to be friendly with everyone. The last girl was someone Marinette didn’t recognize, who was seated by herself looking at something on her phone. She approached her first.

The girl had dark skin, though Marinette couldn’t guess at an specific ethnicity, with hair that fell in a wave, likely styled that was and not natural, with hazel eyes and a beauty mark on the right side of her forehead. She wore a simple plaid (orange, white and pruple) shirt with a pair of medium-light jeans and black and white sneakers that were stilized enough they could be designer. Marinette would have to look into that. She also wore a pair of large black glasses.

“Bonjour, I’m Marinette.” she said as she placed her Macoron box on the table. “My father gave me some treats to hand out, sorry they’re a bit squished. Are you new here, I don’t recognize you?”

“I’m Alya,” the girl said, taking a macaron a bit hesitant, though it was likely because she’d been surprised by Marinette suddenly speaking to her and not any form of social anxiety or shyness. “And I am new. My family just moved to Paris this summer.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” she told her, still sticking to the cheerful personality she's adopted while living with her parents. “I was new last year and so was Nino, the guy with the headphones. Everyone is really welcoming.”

Alya smiled at her. “Thanks.”

Marinette smiled right back before moving on, handing out macarons to everyone of her classmates that she already knew as she made her way to the two girls she didn’t know. The girl with dreadlocks had her hair, blond with several colours dyed throughout it, pulled back with a pink bandana. She wore a tv shirt, zip up hoodie, shorts with leggings underneath them and a pair of purple low top converse. The girl with the pink hair was wearing a black cap, a dark greyish brown tank top that had a black and green exercise shirt under it, a dark grey pair of shorts that went to the knee, and a pair of colour checkered shoes that went above her ankles. A pair of rollerblades leaned against her side of the table.

“I’m Marinette,” she said, placing the box down for them to choose what macarons they wanted. “Welcome to the class. You guys were in Ms. Mendeleiev’s class last year, right?”

“Yeah.” the dreadlocks girl said shyly. “I’m Mylene.”

Marinette smiled bright at the girl. “It’s nice to meet you Mylene.” she looked at the pink haired girl who didn’t look like she was about to introduce herself. “And you are?” she prompted. 

“Alix.” the girl said, taking one of the macarons.

“Yeah Alix, as in, the slowest girl in our grade,” Kim taunted from the desk behind them.

Alix whipped around. “You want to say that again, this time to my face?” she demanded.

“Kim.” Marinette butted it, using her ‘kind but don’t mess with me’ voice and grin. “That wasn’t very nice. If you keep that up I won’t be giving you a macaron.”

Kim instantly sat back in his chair, mimicking zipping his lips close, an action that still unnerved Marinette, having seen actual zippers sewn to people's lips are punishments while at the League. 

“It’s nice to meet you Alix,” Marinette said, as the pink haired girl settled back into her seat. 

Marientte moved on before she could get caught in a fight between the two, moving up the levels until she reached the large boy who she had yet to see interact much with other students. His hair was buzzed all except for a bleached section that hung on his forehead, making Marinette think of a punk version of Superman's vintage curl. He wore a black t-shirt with bones forming an ‘x’ on the front, black khaki shorts that had large side pockets and a pair of tan work boots that were likely steel toed. He was leaning over his desk with a grumpy look on his face, but from what Marinette could remember, that was just his default expression.

“Do you want a Macaron?” she asked him.

He glanced up at her startled. She just smiled in response. Slowly he reached out and took one. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’m Marinette by the way.” she said.

“Ivan.”

“It’s great to meet you Ivan.” she said just as the bell rang. She quickly handed out the rest of the macarons before rushing to get her things from Chloe and Sabrina’s desk and making her way to the back. 

As Ms. Bustier started class, she pulled out her ipad, switching it over to the secure access line she had set up and started researching her new classmates. It wasn’t like she was actually going to learn anything anyways. 

* * *

Marinette flew through the sky, heading towards the stadium the rest of her homeroom, and more importantly Kim, were having gym class in. She knew that had to be where Ivan was headed since it was Kim that he was angry with. The scarab yoyo worked close enough to a grappling hook that she had no problems maneuvering herself across the Parisian skyline. It was during her second throw into the air that she noticed an all black figure carefully making their way along a thin line. The black cat Miraculous had also been given out then. 

She twisted her body to change her momentum, using her yoyo to pull her towards the black cat wielder. She landed, facing him, on his extended baton. At least he was making sure he knew how his weapon worked before trying to run into battle with it. 

“Woa,” the boy, caucasian, young, she’d be surprised if she was older than 25, said before falling from the baton and towards the ground. It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't smacked his baton on the way down, causing it to retract.

She landed on the ground gracefully, beside her ‘partner’ who was sitting on his butt rubbing his head in pain. And here she thought cats were supposed to land on their feet. There really wasn't a compatible soul that was competent in all of Paris.

“Hey, so I guess your my partner that my kwami was telling me about,” the black cat wielder said as he pulled himself to his feet, having finished licking his wounds. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Mariette sighed internally but shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you as well.” she said politely. Afterall, she only had him for back up and it wouldn’t do good to piss him off until she had proper backup, and who knows, maybe he was just having a rough time adjusting and would become a good black cat wielder. Stranger things had happened.


	8. Curses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A light short little chapter before everything goes to Hell and some of that dark past is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and it's only been two months since I last wrote something for this fic. At least chapter 9 is already written so you guys won't have to wait that long for it to be posted. Is there anything specific any of you want to see in the future? 
> 
> No chapter warnings and Marinette is 13.

There were many things Marinette did not understand about life outside of the Temple. One of those things were school picture days. She could understand document one’s life for future reference, it’s why she let Mara paint her or Nuri sketch her (sometimes the two of them would even put aside their differences and work on something together), but she couldn’t understand why everyone freaked out about it when it came to school picture day. She didn’t understand why people would wear their best outfits or wear something that they wouldn’t normally. Why would they style their hair differently and suddenly wear makeup? If picture day was a way to document one’s life at school, then why didn't they wish to look as they normally did?

But like with many things Marinette did not understand about typical teenage life, even with her Master trying to teach her typical customs and interests, she just ignored her confusion, writing it down as something people just did to fit in and seem normal, and left it at that. 

Curses and jinxes on the other hand were something she understood way better then what a normal teenager did, at least she assumed since she never heard anyone talking about them, even with magic being common knowledge thanks to American heroes not knowing how to keep out of the spotlight. So when she heard Juleka and Rose talking about Juleka being jinxed, it instantly caught her attention, pulling her from her conversation with Alya about how stupid picture day was. 

“What’s this about being jinxed?” she asked. She focused on Juleka’s soul but couldn't see anything suggesting she was cursed, though jinxes were a different matter completely, one she’d never really had to deal with nor was it something that had really been worth her time. Figuring out a jinx though, would be a nice change of pace from pretending to be a normal teenager, even if a curse would have been more interesting. It also helped to know if someone in her, in Marinette’s, life was dangerous or had come into contact with someone dangerous, either to herself or the the First Miracle Box, and jinxes and those who cast them could be nasty sometimes. Bad luck wasn’t something to take lightly, just look at the damage Chat Noir could do. 

Juleka sighed before she started to explain. “Ever since I was little, every time someone takes a photo of me, something always goes very wrong,” she said before listing examples all of which Marinette could see having been caused by a jinx, after all it was all bad luck based. Marinette could remember Max raising his hand last year during picture day, obscuring Juleka’s face, something she didn’t think highly of since it ended up being the class's final photo. 

“You’re wrong, Juleka, you’ll see.” Rose said with a little shake of her head.

Marinette agreed, not that Juleka was necessarily wrong but the unsaid promise that the goth would end up in the photo. Breaking a jinx would be fun in Marinette’s opinion, something harmless to deal with since Juleka’s life or safety wasn’t in danger. Not to mention easy. 

Or not.

Marinette really overestimated the school which was saying something because she didn’t have a high opinion of how it was run or what was taught. First the photographer completely ignored Juleka, almost leaving the goth out of the photo completely. Marinette actually had to speak up about it when no one else did, not even Rose. The photographer didn’t even properly and meaningfully apologize to the goth for his lack of professionalism. Then he spent almost 15 minutes (14 mins and 27 secs exactly) rearranging them until he found a position he liked them all in. Then his camera battery died and he didn’t have his spare on him resulting in him having to leave them for a moment to fetch it. This resulted in Juleka using the break to go to the restroom and to not return, the janky doors to one of the toilet stalls jamming and locking her in and causing her to miss having her photo taken. 

Breaking this jinx without doing anything out of character for herself, for Marinette, was going to be more complicated than she thought, especially when Juleka ended up getting akumatized because of her jinx once again making itself known. 

After she and Chat Noir took down Juleka’s akuma form, Reflekta- a pink monstrosity that Mariette sort of liked the design of though she couldn’t point out the reason why- with her retaining her physical form and Chat Noir getting hit by Reflekta and turning into her look alike, Marinette set out to fix Juleka’s jinx. She got Adrien to convince the photographer, one that his father apparently used sometimes, though Marinette couldn’t fathom why, to take the class’ photo in the park outside of school. 

Marinette couldn’t help but smile as Juleka showed up perfectly in the photo, her jinx more than likely broken. She’d keep an eye on the goth in the future to make sure she was still showing up in photos but the fact she showed up in the class photo was a good sign that the cycle of bad luck was broken. 

* * *

Ladybug, she really wished she had come up with a name before the public did for her, didn’t know whether she wanted to smile or frown as Chat Noir once again sneezed. She understood people had allergies but why did his have to be so violent and distracting, not for her but for him. She already had to work sometimes to keep him on track and take everything seriously. She wondered sometimes if he had ADHD. 

A part of her pitied him for being allergic to birds. Paris had a decent pigeon population. She imagined trips to the park were quite annoying. Could she Lucky Charm him some allergy medication just so he’d be quiet and they could take down Mister Pigeon. It was embarrassing that it was taking them so long, especially since he wasn’t an overly impressive Akuma. 

As they defeated Mister Pigeon and Ladybug got ready to cast her Miraculous Cure, she looked at her partner. “You know in some ancient societies and religions, allergies were seen as a curse from a past life. If I were you, I’d look into it, who knows what other curses were placed on your soul.” she told him before casting the Cure. 

She headed out, having promised her parents she’d help in the Bakery, ignoring Chat Noir calling after her, asking if she was serious or joking and if he had anything to worry about. She took a moment to turned back to look at her partner, giving him a smirk, before disappearing behind the Parisian sky line. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I described Marinette's Ladybug outfit in this chapter yet? It's been two months since I wrote this and I'm way to tired right now to go and look, so if one of you remembers and lets me know, I'll be forever grateful.


	9. The Preparation (The Wedding part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of a five part serious within the story. This chapter is pretty innocent but future chapters apart of this series (chapters 10, 11, 14 and 15) will have more detail trigger warners and content warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Age 8

Niu woke up not knowing where she was at first, a feeling that reminded her of the first time she had woken up at the new base for the Temple of Light all those years ago. It took her a second to remember that she and her Master were currently at the base for the League of Shadows, having arrived late that night, and escorted straight to their own personal corridors to rest. 

Master, nor any of the other Guardians, had told her the reason for the visit, just stating that the League were old allies, meaning they were important, and more notably, powerful. Niu knew to be on her best behaviour, the tiniest of slips on her part would create repercussions she’d feel for years to come. She couldn’t afford to be anything less than perfect. 

Niu pulled up the mental map she had made the night before when she had searched her room for any hidden cameras, mics or anything that could harm or be used against her. The exit was the door to the right of her bed. Her Masters corridors were a door down, thorough she could go through the doors to the left of her bed, to the sitting area that had been provided that also served to connect her and her masters corridors together. An archway sat across from her bed leading to one of the most luxurious bathrooms she had ever seen. Knowing she needed to be presentable for this visit, she made her way their, striping until she was in nothing but her birthday suit on her way.

Most the bathroom were made from cut stone and marble with dim lighting and massive mirrors covering most of the walls, allowing Niu to see every spec of her body. Quite useful since it gave her the perfect view of the whip marks on her back, allowing her to study them so she could decide whether or not they healed enough for her to do a deep clean.

After a couple of minutes studying the wounds, she decided that they were mostly healed and there was no risk of reopening them. Satisfied, Niu turned and walked toward the shower, opening the door and walking in. She studied the multiple settings before pressing a few buttons. After a moment warm water shot out of the shower heads that were built all along the wall, spraying Niu from every angle. Smiling to herself, she turned the heat up a bit before placing her hand under the soap and shampoo nozzles. She squeezed out some shampoo before gently rubbing it though her hair, running it evenly through her waist length hair. She let it sit for a moment allowing the fruity and floral scents to fill the air, similar to the floral scents she was used to that it didn’t put her off, but different enough that it provided a nice change. 

She carefully scrubbed her body down, scrubbing away any dead skin and dirt that had collected during the four day trip it took them to get there, a good chunk of those days spent on horseback. It felt good to be cleaned again. If she hadn’t been as tired when they had arrived she would have showered before going to bed. She leaned back under the spray, washing away the soap and shampoo, a part of her glad that she had waited. Since she wasn’t at the Temple and was a guest at the League, she had no chores to do, which left her more time to enjoy her time in the bathroom. 

She turned the shower off and stepped out, walking towards the bathtub, which was big enough to fit at least three or four of her and probably two fully grown adults, and started to fill it up. She walked around, finding some bubble bath and a lighter before heading back towards the tub. Testing the water to make sure it was hot enough, she plugged the tub and let it start to fill up. She lit the candles, none of which looked like they’d been used before, that surrounded the tub before heading towards the vanity. By the time she finished brushing the tangles from her hair and putting it up into a simple, but neat, bun, the bath was full.

She sunk down into the tub, sighing as she felt her muscles relax. It had been close to fifteen months since she and Master had left the Temple to travel and she hadn’t had the chance to have a proper bath since then. Master had decided that she needed real world practice speaking the languages she knew and surrounded herself with other cultures. The last fifteen months had been educational but she had missed the pleasure a simple bath had brought. 

She allowed herself to soak for half an hour before getting out, not wanting to risk Master waking to find her lazing about. She got out, drained the tub, before rubbing herself down with the towels that had already been provided. She went back to the vanity to dry her hair, letting it settle down the length of her body instead of putting it back up. She didn’t know what hairstyle Master had planned for her and thus didn’t want to add any kinks to the hair which would make it look less than perfect, which was unacceptable. 

Niu made her way back to her bedroom, noticing that white cloth now hung on her door. Someone had come by and left her an outfit to weave for the day. 

Grabbing the outfit she moved towards the bed, laying it out so she could study it. Right away she noticed it was a Hanfu. The base colour was snow white with silver embroidery and silver grey fabric bordering the sleeves and collar with a matching sash. The hanfu was made of a upper robe, a skirt, an upper skirt with shash, and an outer full length robe. A head piece was included with the outfit, made of pure silver with rubies set into it, creating a floral pattern that, once in her hair, would swirl up the side of her head. Red flats were also provided for moving about the base.

Niu carefully got dressed, putting care into making sure she wrinkled nothing and that everything was placed perfectly. Once she was dressed she picked up the ancient Guardian daggers that she had stashed under her pillow and slipped them into the holsters, making sure the clothing covered them, but they were still easily accessible. She looked into one of the many mirrors in the bathroom to make sure everything was perfect before entering the sitting area that she and her Master shared. 

Her Master, Guardian Zhu, was already sitting at the table, dressed in his traditional Guardian clothing, sipping a cup of tea. He looked up when she walked in. “Did they provide a hairpiece to go with the outfit?” he asked her. 

Niu nodded, handing it to him. She knew better then to expect praise for how well she had cleaned up. The only time he’d make a comment was if something was wrong.

Guardian Zhu guestered for her to come to, turning in his chair so that she could crouch in front of him and let him do her hair. She was used to him doing it, though these days, as she learned more styles to do herself, he was only doing it on important occasions. He picked up the hairbrush that had been sitting on the table beside him, running it through her smooth hair. He pulled part of her hair up into a bun that hung to the left a bit. The rest of her hair he left hanging. He picked up the hair piece, pinning it to her hair, along the right side.

“You are ready now,” he told her, standing up and brushing non-existent dirt from both of their outfits. He led her out into the hallway. As he walked he leaned towards her. “You have your daggers.”

“Of course,” She said. He was the one who told her never to go anywhere without them when dying Guardian Asim passed them on to her. She hadn’t gone anyway without them since. To do so would be to spit on Guardian Asim’s memory and legacy and to curse her to failure and self destruction. 

“Good.” Master said.

Niu frowned internally. Master was acting weird. First he questioned if she had her daggers and now he made a comment that could be considered praise. She was starting to get the feeling that this was a more important trip than just going over the treaties between the Temple of Light and League of Shadows. 

The two of them entered a room that was bare except for a throne that stood right across from them. Judging by the size of the room and the fact that there was only a throne in the room, this is where Ra’s al Ghul held large gatherings, did executions and/or fights of honour. Her Master gestured for her to kneel once they reached the center of the room. She did so, bowing her head slighting, enough to show respect but still be able to see any upcoming events. Her Master stood behind her, likely with his hands clasped behind his back and his head bowed as well.

Niu heard the sound of a door open, echoing loudly in the empty room, followed by the sound of three people approaching, their footsteps quiet in a way that suggested they were all well trained. She didn’t dare raise her head, instead straining her eyes to the side to make out what she could of the approaching figures. One figure, whom she assumed was Ra’s, she didn’t get a good view of as they went straight to the throne. The other two continued to approach her and Guardian Zhu.

The one was a woman, tall, in a black bodysuit that clung to every one of her curves, likely as a tactic to distract the enemy. Her complexion was dark, in a deep tan toned sort of way, with dark brown hair that had a slight wave to it. Niu couldn’t see her eyes but if she had to guess, she’d guess that they were a bright green like the depths of the Lazarus Pit. 

Walking half a step behind the woman, who Niu suspected was Talia al Ghul, was a boy around her age. He was a bit paler then his mother, though it was still obvious that he wasn’t cacuasian, with his dark hair, black not brown, swept back. He wore a pair of pants that were loose fitting until the knee where they were pulled in tight to his leg by a pair of knee high leather boots that were obviously hand made just for him. They were black with gold detailing, which matched the rest of his outfit. He wore a long sleeve shirt which was also loose all the way to the forearms were it tapered in, fitting skin tight with enough stretch to still make movement easily. Over that he wore a black leather vest with gold detailing and pointed ‘skirts’ to cover his legs and crotch. Finally he had leather armour pads over his shoulders and a floor length red cape, suggesting his status, though Niu had not previously been aware that Talia al Ghul, nor any of Ra’s other children, had children of their own. A sword was sheathed at his side, and Niu could make out the outlines of dagger holsters that were in his reach but hidden from the untrained or observant eye. 

The woman guested for the boy to kneel beside Niu, before she stood behind him, much like her Master stood behind her. 

“Excellent,” Ra’s called from his throne. “Now that we are all here, we shall begin.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneak peek at the next chapter for those of you who realized that there was a second part to this series.
> 
> Guardian of Light Chapter 9/ Heir of Shadows Chapter 1 : I Thought You'd Be Taller


	10. I Thought You'd Be Taller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter 9 of Guardian of Light but also Chapter 1 of Heir of Shadows. A little change from seeing everything through Marinette's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> age 10

Damian was born destined for greatness. As the only, worthy, male descendant of Ra’s al Ghul, he was the obvious choice for the Heir of the League of Shadows. He was given the best training, the best education possible. He was the strongest, the smartest and overall best out of, not only the others in his generation, but out of a majority of those at the League of Shadows. Only those who were a part of his grandfather’s circle were able to truly defeat him.

That all changed.

Today was his tenth birthday, and as tradition, he was given the chance to prove himself in battle against his mother. Unlike every year previous, Damian, tooth and nail, managed to defeat his mother, his blade resting snuggly against her neck in triumph. 

Of course it would happen on the year in which his Tianshi, his Min, wasn’t there to see the battle, still being away on a mission. It would have been nice to celebrate his victory with her but he could settle with lording his skills and success over Mara’s head. Afterall he’d see Min in another month or so and they’d be able to celebrate together then. 

Along with the success of beating his mother he also got a special gift as part of his tenth birthday. The opportunity to meet his father, to train under the world’s greatest detective and advance his own investigation skills. It would be a couple of months yet before he and his mother would head out for America, since she had just announced the trip that day and he needed to prepare.

Damian could admit, at the very least to himself and Tianshi, that he was intrigued to meet his father. During the day, he was Bruce Wayne, billionaire industrialist and notorious playboy while at night he was Batman, Gotham’s hero, founder member of the Justice League and the world’s greatest detective; someone whose skills impressed even Ra’s al Ghul, resulting in the Dark Knight being offered a spot in the League of Shadows as Ra’s al Ghul’s heir before Damian had been born. It was one of the many reasons why Damian was destined for greatness, his genes demanded it. 

That night Damian spent awake in his and Min’s corridors going over all the files his mother and grandfather kept on Gotham, Bruce Wayne/Batman, and the pity projects his father called his wards. He would be prepared and make his mother proud. It was not the al Ghul way to come off or to be ignorant. 

He fell asleep as the early morning rays of light were streaming through the tiny window at the top of the room, into the crystal orbs that would reflect it down into the rest of the room.

Damian awoke to what his internal clock said was four hours later, not in his corridors but instead laying on a strange bed. It took him a moment but he recognised the metal of the room to be that of one of the Shadows submarines. He still wore his silk pajama bottoms and a glass of water was set on a table by him. Seems like his mother found a new drug that worked in sedating him without his body fighting against it. Seems like he had something new to build a resistance to.

He pushed himself up from the bed, pushing his hair out of his face, noting that a black and white battle suit was set out for him to change into him. He ignored it for now, heading for the glass of water to get the cotton feel out from the back of his throat. He gripped the glass, as he moved across the room and pulled aside a curtain revealing a massive window, confirming that he was below sea level as a school of fish swimmed by.

He continued to look around the room, not that there was much to look at when his eyes landed on a memento that was very familiar to him. He picked up one of the few memento’s his mother kept; Batman's cowl.

“I thought I told you to leave  _ that _ alone.” His mothers voice came from the doorway that had just opened up. It was dark enough in the room that she likely picked up his movement through heat sensors. She wasn’t a fan of infrared cameras.

“Why do you keep it, mother?” He asked instead as he gazed at the mask. He never understood why his mother, who hated signs of weakness, kept a memento of the man she obviously, at least to him, cared for still. 

“It’s a _reminder_ that your father has shown me _both_ _sides_ of himself, just as I have shown him mine.” Talia al Ghul said, taking the mask from him and placing it aside. 

He didn’t bother asking why he was there, the cowl was a big enough give away that he didn’t have to. His mother changed her mind, instead of bringing him to his father several months from now, she decided to do so immediately. It was unfortunate that he wouldn't get a chance to see Min for quite some time. At least he’ll have a good story to tell her when he returned.

Talia moved into the room and picked up the battle suit for him and pulled out a sword that was in a hidden compartment in the table. She walked back to him and knelt down. She held the sword out for him to take though he made no move to do so right away. The sword was well worn, and well taken care of, it obviously had meaning.

“This sword belonged to your grandfather. You are an  _ al Ghul _ first and a  _ Wayne _ second. Remember that, my little Dark Knight. Now come, there’s much I want to show you before we arrive.”

He followed his mother through the submarine, pulling his hair up in a bun as he did so, in which his mother mentioned there being problems within the Shadows and not to expect to hear from her for several months at least, and into the control room. The massive screen in the middle of all the other smaller screens showed Batman, his father, fighting some of his mothers manbats. Damian couldn't help but be drawn to the screen, going as far as to place a hand on it as he watched his father fight. It was the first time he had ever seen video of his father in action, all other records at the Shadows base were just photos.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared, watching his father fight, when his mother spoke up. “My manbats have subdued  _ him _ . Make ready, Damian. We’ll be arriving in the bowels of London shortly.”

Damian looked at his father one last time. “Yes, mother.” he said before getting ready. It wouldn't do to be unpresentable for his first meeting with his father. 

.

Damian stood in the shadows, unseen by the manbats and his father. As his mother walked out the manbats forced the fearsome Batman to his knees. Damian watched as his mother started speaking to her beloved, creeping closer to make out exactly what she was saying. It wouldn’t do for him to miss him que to meet his father.

“...I’ve allowed you to evade your  _ responsibilities _ , my beloved. He’s been trained not only by me, but the masters of the  _ League of Assassins _ along with other special... _ teachers _ .” It was interesting that his mother used the Leagues more well known moniker rather than the original name. “But the boy is growing beyond even  _ my _ control now.”

That was a high compliment from his mother. Al Ghul’s weren’t made to be controlled.

“Boy?” Batman asked, in a fake gravelly voice, obviously used to intimidate the criminals he took down.

“He needs your guiding hand at this juncture to become the perfect heir to the al Ghul empire. Soon I intend to hold the whole world hostage to a new kind of terror… but in the meantime, I leave the two of you to get acquainted. Don’t allow him to cramp your style, my detective.”

Damian stepped from the shadows, ignoring what his mother had said at the end, it wouldn't do to think about her plans of world domination, especially not when that wasn’t his current mission.

He placed the blade of his grandfather’s, no his, sword to his father’s neck. “Father.” he greeted. “I imagined you taller.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to post a chapter. I seemed to have lost track of time and every time I thought about posting the next chapter I was at work and couldn't. I'll try not to do that for the next chapter.


End file.
